


It's The Little Things

by FriendOfTheFugitive



Series: Forevermore [4]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Headcanon, Inspired By Tumblr, headcanon inspired, intimate, not sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4522158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendOfTheFugitive/pseuds/FriendOfTheFugitive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a Headcanon where Cullen helps the Inquisitor undress after a long and hard day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's The Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a post made by the lovely queenmelisende at tumblr. I appreciate her allowing me to write a story based around it! Thanks for reading! <3

Rynne plopped down on her bed with an audible sigh. Her feet were killing her. The armor she wore was suffocating. The cold of Emprise du Lion had practically iced over the medal aspects of the armor, the cold burned her skin, and to make matters worse, one of her sleeves had been ripped on Red Lyium. Cassandra almost quarantined her right then and there, but Varric assured them that Lyrium would have infected her only if it actually broke into the skin. Luckily it didn’t. After a long day, she was glad that she could finally get out of her armor and into the lush comfort of her Skyhold PJs.

Rynne began to unbutton the back of her knee high boots when there was a knock at the door followed by a very familiar and welcomed voice. “Astryd, Varric told me of what transpired in du Lion. Are you hurt?” He crossed the room like he had millions of times. His pace swift, his face clouded with worry and his posture rigid.

He kneeled in front of her, his hands on her thighs and his eyes examining every inch of her form for cuts and bruises. She merely laughed a reassuring laugh before leaning in to kiss his nose. “Cullen, love, the only thing that was damaged was my pride and the sleeve. The Herald of Andraste shouldn’t trip over trivial things such as snow. The Chantry will use this prove my guilt.” She jested with a wide smile.

Cullen chuckled lightly and shook his head, “I’m glad you are not hurt, love.” He then noticed the small progress she made at removing her armor. “Allow me,” he spoke in a quiet, intimate tone. With gentle but skilled fingers, he began to manipulate the buttons through the leather slits.

Rynne followed his motions by raising her foot off the ground and into his cradled palm. He slipped the show off of her leg and foot with ease. His lips then kissed the inside of her ankle. Cullen marveled at the impossibly soft skin she had despite the hardships it faced. This was one of the many things he loved about the Inquisitor. Under the hard shell of her armor, she was delicate. Cullen considered himself lucky to be so openly welcomed into the vulnerable state of what was the real Rynne Trevelyan.

He removed the other boot with just as much care. His lips trailed up her ankle to the middle of her shin where the bottom of her trousers covered the flesh.

Rynne watched him with admiration and love in her eyes. This display had become a ritual for the couple. At first, it was odd to let Cullen undress her in such a caring and intimate way. She had felt exposed, as if the armor she wore was all that kept the threats of the world away from her soul. Cullen had unintentionally showed her that he would keep her just as safe as the wall she put up around herself.

Cullen was standing now. He had taken her hand to guide her to her feet. She followed with a light smile. Cullen began to unbutton her coat arms. The leather left her body with ease. Taking her slender fingers in his hands, he pressed his lips to each individual finger, then to the inside of her palms down to her wrists.

Guiding her hands to her sides, he placed a soft kiss on her nose. He pulled away with a gentle smile on his lips as his fingers unbuckled the front of her long coat. The black fabric slid easily off her shoulders and pooled at her feet. A soft sigh slipped past her lips as the stiff posture she always held loosened.

Cullen loved how her shoulders dropped ever so slightly, how the tight muscles of her arms and legs visibly unwinded as the weight left her body. He reached to the side of her red chest plate. The medal was still cold to the touch. Before undoing the last buckle, he tucked his fingers under the bottom so the medal would not clank to the ground and create tension from the sharp and sudden noise. He gently slid the chest plate from her body before placing it on the side table.

There was no rush to this process. Cullen understood how quickly things spin out of control, how rapidly her life had changed. He was glad to be the one to grant her a space to simply catch her breath; to not have to worry about anything but being taken care of. Cullen enjoyed taking care of her in any way he could.

He slowly untied the front of her cotton shirt. It loosened the shirt enough to have it slide right off her body with the gentle coax of his fingers. His lips kissed the naked curve of her shoulder. His fingers traced the numerous scars that littered her torso and arms. Each one he wished he could have prevented. Cullen counted them, memorizing them, if only to make sure she did not gain another while adventuring.

Cullen dropped back to his knees. He placed a soft kiss on the small scar that rested above her bellybutton while his fingers curved into the hem of her leggings. He slid them down her legs with ease, kissing her exposed flesh at the most unexpected times. One kiss landed at the side of the curve of her knee.

He stood back on his feet seconds later as she stepped out of the pools of clothing. His eyes examined the woman he loved emerged from the mantle of the Inquisitor. This was Rynne. The woman behind all the fancy titles. The spirited, passionate, and sensitive woman he fell hard for.

She leaned into him, a soft and content sigh leaving her lips. Cullen wrapped his arms loosely around her hips before he placed a soft kiss on her temple. “Your skin is more deserving then blood and death. I will never let you forget that.”


End file.
